


Our Place

by Desdimonda



Series: To Want, To Need, To Know - A collection of Mystic Messenger drabbles. [4]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Needy MC, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Ray, Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, outdoors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 22:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18979909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desdimonda/pseuds/Desdimonda
Summary: MC gets needy and spontaneous in the garden. She wants to make their mark on the garden. Or she’s just horny.





	Our Place

“Don’t you like your room?” he asks as she slips from his hand and ducks beneath the flower twisted arch. Her arm brushes a dying rose, sending a cascade of orange petals down her back. “You keep asking to come to the garden.”

She leans back against the arch, shadowed by its shade, by the waning evening sun. “I can like both, can’t I?”

He pauses to bask, in her. His garden had always been a culmination of things. A distraction, an obsession, a passion - but now there was reason. Her. Every flower turned towards her; every bloom, breathed for her; even the hidden thorns on the stems mimicked her bite. “I just-“

She looks around, then extends her hand, beckoning. 

“I made that room for you. Every detail, every-“

“The room is mine,” she says as he joins her, hands in hands, soft silk gliding by fingers. “But the garden...could be ours.”

_ Ours? _

She sets his hands on her hips, sinking back further against the archway, the flowers a bed, where Ray becomes her shawl as he leans against her, chest to chest, pulled in by her grace.

“I want to belong to your life,” she whispers against his lips, watching those wide mint eyes widen. “Not just be a part of it on a pedestal, admired and desired.”

_ Belong. _

Ray’s fingers tighten against her hips, silk scratching her skirt, bunching the material tight, and up. And up. “But you deserve to be there. To be admired,” up slips her skirt, as down slides his hand, silk to skin, “ _ desired. _ ”

She locks away the word with a kiss, tugging his bottom lip with her teeth. It’s rewarded. Fingers drag along the edge of her underwear, pushing aside the damp lace. 

_ Belong, to me. _

She holds back a moan. It makes her whole body tremor. He feels it though their touch, and he wants more. 

More.

A single finger slides along her slit, but he can’t feel enough through the silk. Pulling back, he hears her whine.

“Shh.” Damp silk quiets her, as two fingers drag down her mouth. She catches the edge with her teeth, and pulls. He leaves behind his glove, the silk sticking to her lips as it hangs from her teeth. 

Bare, uncovered, he slips his hand back between her restless legs, and curls a finger back where he’d left it, watching, listening.

She lets the glove drop, the soft material slipping between her breasts as she moans. There’s no way to quell it this time.

Ray kisses her, tasting the juices he’s smeared across her lips.

Or maybe there was.

At first, his touch is tentative. He’s never done this outside the privacy of her room, with her guidance and lead. He supposes he’s still acting beneath her lead. Every way she moved and talked and breathed had him under her absolute  _ control.  _ He wasn’t sure that she even knew.

Her hands grip the trellise, steadying her body as she feels Ray gain his confidence and a rhythm. Several petals fall from her hand, over her hair, onto her shoulder. She breathes in a sweet swathe of aroma, one that clings to Ray wherever he goes. It was the first thing she smelled when she saw him. Delicate flowers, tinged on his clothes, his hair. He left behind his garden, but it was always with him.

And that’s where she wanted to be, too.

She arches her back against the trellis, pushing against his hand. “More, Ray.”

Her words are a whisper, fallen from lips shadowed by the splitting sun, pushing through the trellis. His magenta coat is washed in a grey bloom from above. They’re painted in the garden as they hide, wrapped in each other, caring for nothing and no-one in what little time they’ve stolen for just themselves.

“More-“ she demands, again.

And he can do nothing more but obey.

He hoists her thigh around his waist, holding her steady as a knee pushes aside hers. Leverage. It works. Two fingers sink deeper, curving to the shape of her body. 

“ _ More.” _

He pauses, kissing her neck, baring his teeth.

Three fingers. A rose breaks, falling from her hand. Not even a kiss can silence her cry now. But does he even want to?

Remembering, he circles his thumb across her bud, watching, feeling the way her body moves every time he slips, he slides it this way -  _ kiss -  _ that way -  _ a touch -  _ around, and around, until it feels like she’s bent to his will. 

The leaves rustle at her back, the petals fall. She won’t stay still. She never has. Silk glides across her collarbone, up, and up until fingers circle her neck -  _ lightly.  _ Just enough to hold her in place. To belong, beneath his hold. 

To belong.

She smiles, and he watches it wash away to another moan. Quick and high. And another. More. His light touch turns firm, holding her steady as she nears her climax.

He’s never touched her like this before. A confidence behind every stroke, a fervour that she’s tried to unwind and goad, gently. Sometimes, when she teases him, or when she moans, catching his eye, she’ll see something there. Something he’s holding back that piques her curiosity and that she wants to let free.

But for now, it’s her who’s free.

Her head hits the wood and leaves. He slides his fingers over her lips, letting her bite the tips. The closer she gets, the closer he presses. Body to body. He wants to feel it all, not just see it, not just hear it. 

She can feel too - feel Ray’s length press against her stomach, hard and needy. If she wasn’t already claimed, she’d fall to her knees there and then.

She bites. He winces, pulling her head down. They kiss, her neck seized once more, firmer than before. He feels like she’s almost there. 

She moans against their lips, unable to kiss.

He feels like she’s there.

A last, long circle of his wet thumb and she is. 

She trembles against him, her body a submission to his hands. They kiss. They kiss away what breaths she has left. He swallows her moans, tasting what they feel like against his tongue. 

Delicious. 

She lets go of the trellis and holds onto him instead. Green stained fingers slip through his hair as she rides the last waves of her orgasm, as she feels his fingers gently wind her down, and down within. 

Foreheads touch. Eyes narrow and meet. Ray smiles as he pulls his gove from between her breasts. But before he puts it back on, he slips each finger, one by one, between her lips, making her lick them clean. She obliges, slowly. Delicately.

“You belong,” he breathes against the corner of her lips, “to  _ me _ .” 

He pulls on his glove, holding her in place with his body.

  
  



End file.
